Love in Darkness
by goat-girl1
Summary: A typical and somewhat formulaic romance story involving the Dark Knight and a woman of my own design.
1. Chapter 1

Things were going well so far, she thought as she moved silently through the alley. At least she hadn't encountered any _Polizia_ yet. But then, wasn't that the point behind all of this? This was to test her new hunting ground, to see how talented the police force was, how difficult they would make her life. 

She crept in the shadows, until she reached the bathroom window. She had studied the building extensively in the past weeks, and knew that this was the best way in, and out. She wondered again at the lack of security, especially when such a precious object lay inside, but the reminded herself not to look the _cavallo del regalo_, the gift horse, in the mouth. One must always be thankful for small treasures. 

It was simple to unlock the window, and she slipped through the narrow space, being careful not to let it bang behind her. She then moved quickly to the door, opened it a tiny crack, and peered out. The hall was empty. Excellent. The guard must be where she predicted, on the other side of the building. Or in one of the offices, studying the deeply intellectual pages of a dirty magazine. It did well to confirm that she hadn't lost her touch in the time off. 

Now would come the more difficult part, because she was impatient, and had trouble letting things take their own course. She found a suitable hiding place among one of the potted jungles, and settled in. The guard was required to check the vaults at least twice in his shift, but she didn't know when this time would come. She let most of her mind wander, while the front remained alert for the approach of the guard. 

***

She had chosen this city at random. Knowing only that she wanted to go the U.S., she had pulled out a map and pointed. It had taken some time before she actually landed on a major city, but had eventually arrived at her choice. Gotham. Then it was simple enough to obtain a false passport, a wig, and to pack the few supplies that would go with her. 

It was really just a matter at having a fresh start. Things had become uncomfortable in Italy, particularly Rome, with the _Polizia_ very concerned about her consistently successful robberies, and consequently watching all possible targets like birds of prey. She could elude them for awhile, but not forever. So had come the decision to move. She had chosen America because of its size, population, and the rumoured stupidity of its officials. It was true enough that she enjoyed a challenge, but she enjoyed staying out of prison more. 

And so she'd arrived, ready for her new life, with a new identity, and the new hunting ground of Gotham. 

***

The guard approached. She tensed her body, preparing to make the necessary moves. As he opened the door, she crept around until she was directly behind him, and when he moved into the room, she moved with him. As he checked the vaults she turned with him, staying out of his sight lines, perfectly silent. When he reached the back of the room, she stopped shadowing and stood straight, waiting for him to see her. 

When he turned around, he stopped, as she knew he would, as so many others had in the past. It was the natural reaction of any man confronted by a woman in a cat-suit. A lithe, attractive woman, she thought to herself appreciatively. But there was no time for self-admiration right now, she had to act quickly. She moved toward him, and put her hand to his throat. With practised ease she simultaneously pushed and pinched the nerve at the back of his jaw, causing him to collapse to the floor. 

Casually she stepped over him, and moved to last vault in the room, the one that held tonight's prize, the Grausam family sapphires. The collection was generously on loan to this gallery, to be shown as one of the world's best examples of cut sapphires. However, there was to be not mention of how the Grausam's had achieved these gems, and so many others, through lying, theft, and treachery. Due to this, she didn't really consider it theft to take the gems, just redistribution of previously stolen goods. 

The vault posed no problem, she had posed as a temporary secretary and had obtained the codes required to open it. Once it was open, she emptied the contents into a small bag, and made her exit, going back the way she came until she reached the alley-way, via the bathroom window. 

She moved silently through the shadows, on constant watch for anyone that might easily remember and report a woman in a cat-suit. It was good for her delicate, quiet movements, but alas, did not blend well into a crowd. Thankfully even in this large a city the streets were almost deserted. When she did happen to see someone, she ducked even farther into the darkness and stood still, not even breathing until he passed. At last she reached a part of town that could hide her, what she supposed could be called the "red-light" district. Amongst the prostitutes and transvestites her cat-suit blended in perfectly. This would do for an easy route home, from here she could catch a taxi and not be considered any different than regular fares. 

She removed the stocking mask, opting instead for one that covered only the eyes. 

As she waited for one to arrive, she noticed a sudden tension among the rest of the people. They pointed at dark corners, and sometimes at the sky. She wondered if there was some sort of undercover siege on at the moment, and cursed her luck if there was. Then she saw what they were gesturing about. 

He came down from one of the rooftops, falling with ease. When he landed, the people backed away at first, and then appeared more comfortable with his presence. They crowded up to him, telling him of the latest crimes in the area, and who they thought was responsible. She did not feel so comfortable. She regarded him with unease, especially the pointed ears and moulded body suit. However, unease was not the only thing she felt grudgingly; there was also a deep attraction. How that could be she didn't know, after all it was a man in what appeared to be a bat costume. But it was there. Suddenly his piercing eyes fell on her, directly on her, and she also felt fear. It was her nature to follow her instincts, and the fear caused her to turn tail. Forget the taxi, she could creep home in the shadows. All she wanted right now was to be away from here, from him. 

She ran fast, but easily, instantly ducking into the shadows of the alley. She knew he was following, sensed it, just as she sensed this would be her most challenging escape ever. Well, she though defiantly, if he thought it would be easy, he had another thing coming. Fear always made her angry, and her anger manifested itself into stubbornness. She would simply refuse to be caught. That said, she rapidly changed directions several times, trying to throw him off, always keeping to the dark areas of the street. The bag with the jewels banged heavily against her hip, but she did not tire, she had spent too long training herself to tire that easily. 

Just as she had felt his presence appear, almost out of nowhere, now she felt it leave, with such speed she was left a little confused. She turned into a doorway and leaned against the heavy wood, not winded, but not understanding where the intimidating presence had gone. After a few moments of careful deliberation, she came to the conclusion that it wasn't a trap, he had actually left. This decided, she left the doorway to make her careful, and silent, way home. 


	2. Chapter 2

What troubled him most was why she had run. He hadn't recognised her, but she certainly hadn't seemed very suspicious, and didn't stand out as different from the rest of the night-people. At least not in dress, he reminded himself. As soon as he had seen her, he had been struck by her stance, wary and defiant, as if challenging him to confront her. And then she had run. Night-people hardly ever ran from him anymore, they had come to trust him; it was their streets he protected. So he had chased her. And quite the chase she had given, ducking in and out of shadows, running with such speed and agility, he was reminded of...well of himself. 

And just as he was overtaking her, or so he told himself, that damned scanner had picked up something about a robbery, and cops coming out of the building screaming with laughter. He was tempted to ignore it, and keep up this pursuit, which was unlike him. But in the end he knew he had to go, the Joker was more of a threat to Gotham than a mysterious woman in black. 

*** 

After returning home that morning, his mind returned to the earlier events. He hadn't been able to see her entire face, it had been partially covered by a plain mask. Her only noticeable feature was her hair. Even though it had been in a tight arrangement, he could tell that it was long, and very thick. And black. The deepest black he had ever seen. 

He slept poorly, often awaking, calling out to the dark figure who ran through his dreams. Imploring her to stop. He knew that he would not easily forget the woman, and would work tirelessly to identify her. 


	3. Chapter 3

She awoke in her new bed, for a moment blissfully forgetful of the past night's events. But then it all came flooding back. The robbery had gone well, actually easier than she could have hoped. But then that figure had appeared. She hadn't felt such fear before someone since her father had caught her taking eggs from a neighbouring farmer. They were very poor, and she had been trying to help, but her father had been deeply upset, and had explained to her why it was wrong to steal. Had tried anyway, obviously the lesson had not set. 

With these thoughts, she rolled over on her side and rang the bell for Gabriel. Her manservant for years, he was probably her best friend. True he didn't know of her secret life, but only because she did not wish to endanger him, or herself. She believed the less a person knew, the better. And he hadn't asked questions. Even when she had suddenly announced that they were moving to America, he had simply begun packing. Neither had any family left, and it was not the first time they had moved on short notice. 

When he arrived, she asked him to draw a bath, and bring up her usual breakfast, a mushroom omelette, with toast and blackberry jam. He nodded, then opened the drapes, for the sole purpose of annoying her, it seemed; she hated to see the sun before she was fully awake. 

As she soaked in the bath she thought more about the previous night's encounter. She had told few where she was going, only those she knew she could trust, so that they could contact her if the _Polizia_ guessed where she was. Nobody had mentioned anything about a man dressed like a bat. Especially not a bat with the most piercing eyes she had ever seen. She thought it was those eyes that had provoked her reaction. Well, to be honest, both responses, the fear and the attraction. They were the eyes of a hero. 

*** 

When her bath and breakfast her done, she settled into the days affairs. After checking on the sapphires, she went to the study and called in Gabriel. While Gabriel had no family, he did have many friends, in many places. One of these friends had given him a few names of people in Gotham that she must know if she were to become part of the social elite. This was of course what she needed. No one was less suspect that an upper-class lady. Preferably a lady who was adored by her peers. 

Gabriel had also received the names of some of these people's servants, and once introductions were made, and there was some chatter about mutual friends, it was arranged to have her name put on a few guest lists for upcoming social and charity events. 

Her name. That had been an interesting choice. When she was born, her parents had called her Lucia, "light", in the hopes that she would be a beautiful and happy child. Alas, this had not been so. She was beautiful, there was not doubt of that, but she had a morose nature uncharacteristic of their family. She often spent hours staring into space, with a look of absolute sorrow on her face. Her parents had tried to introduce hobbies and activities, in the hopes of cheering her. However most of these attempts failed miserably. She could not sing, and they couldn't afford a musical instrument. When she was allowed use of the church piano, she plunked only minor keys, and did not succeed in making any melody. When they tried painting, all her creations were dark, and seemed to hold some hidden menace. Eventually they gave up. 

Then one day, her father had been repairing a wagon for a neighbour and Lucia had wandered in. She was fascinated by the work, and asked many questions. Her father was delighted by the interest, as he had no sons to follow him, and answered them all. From that time on Lucia was happy as long as she had something mechanical to toy with. So she had learned how to manipulate man-made things. 

But returning to her name. Lucia could not come to America with the same name she had used in Italy, everything must be left in the past. She decided on Adria Notte. It was fitting enough. Adria meant "dark one" and Notte for her love of the night. It also held a mysterious quality that would entice people, and have them liking her before they even spoke to her. It was symbolic of what she would become in this new life. 


	4. Chapter 4

When he went downstairs later that morning, he was greeted by that wonderful smell that meant breakfast was ready. As usual. Alfred was so used to his routine, and knew exactly what he needed in the morning. 

Breakfast finished with, he moved to the office and began his day's work. Around two Alfred came in with a lunch tray, and an unwelcome reminder. The opening of the new museum was tonight. How could he have forgotten. And there was not getting out of it, not that he was prone to backing out of commitments. Well, at least he could hope that the food would be good. 

*** 

Later that evening he arrived at the museum, ready to smile, laugh, and carry out all the other rituals of upper class society. He was shuffled from group to group, laughed at jokes, was clapped on the back and congratulated on his consistent bachelor status, and pawed at by white-haired women who just knew that he would be perfect for their granddaughters. He sighed inwardly, but admitted to himself that life could be worse. 


	5. Chapter 5

She arrived at her very first event, the opening of the new museum. She was dressed in a simple evening gown, the colour a dark red that complimented her hair perfectly. She had left her hair down, knowing that its length and colour would draw eyes and spark conversation. 

She moved with ease and grace through the crowds, acting as if she had been born a part of the Gotham elite. She discreetly introduced herself to a few men and older women, and then let them control further introductions, slowly but firmly establishing herself as one of them. It was easy for her, she just looked at it as another part of her plans. 

She chatted easily with the young men, flirting, but in a demure manner that would have her labelled a carefree young girl, and not a tramp. She chatted also with the young women, who were endlessly fascinated by her hair, asking all kinds of questions about what shampoo, and how long it took to brush, and who her stylist was. She answered them all with a cheerful air, commending herself for having the foresight to ask Gabriel to find a stylist of good repute, and see to it that she moved to the top of his client list. 

All of these were simple, yet perfectly calculated moves. She was the centre of attention, but not in an overbearing or ostentatious way. She was careful to bring the attention to other girls once in a while, so that they would admire her humility, and feel as if they were friends. She used her hair and body but did not flaunt them, and when one drunk man asked her upstairs to inspect her more closely, she laughed lightly, winked at him, and wandered off to the next group. All went perfectly, until she noticed the imposing figure staring at her from across the room. 


	6. Chapter 6

He saw her from across the room, easily picking her out of the crowd. Even from this distance, he could tell she was the centre of attention, and enjoying it immensely. He would have noticed it earlier, but he had been pulled onto the patio by one of the white-haired women, and had spent the last half hour pretending to be engrossed in the vapid ramblings of her niece. The girl had certainly known a lot about cats. But when he re-entered the main room, his attention and been immediately drawn to the strange woman.   
  
It was her hair, he decided, her gorgeous black hair. Not to mention the way that dress hugged the curves of her fantastic body. The way he was focusing on her curves caused him to pause for a moment. He wasn't immune to the charms of a woman, by any means, but he couldn't remember the last time he had been so infatuated with those of a single person. It was shocking, and a little alarming. He tried to remind himself that it was not a good idea to get involved with anyone, but every few moments he found his eyes returning to her hair, her bare shoulders, her hips, her legs beneath the swirling skirt. He was finding it extremely difficult to ignore her.   
  
Especially since she was now looking back at him. He supposed he should have expected this, he'd been trying not to stare without some success for more than a few minutes. He really should know better. However even the knowledge that she was now watching him could not avert his eyes for long, in fact it seemed to make it harder.   
  
Realising he couldn't save face without introducing himself, he began to move across the crowded floor. He was disappointed to find that she wasn't going to make it easy, she remained with the group, waiting for him to come to her. While he found this frustrating- he was used to women coming to him- he also found it strangely alluring. She exuded a kind of confidence he rarely sensed in people, especially not in high society women.   
  
Having made his way to the group, he waited for a break in the conversation. Fortunately he didn't have to wait long, it seemed he hadn't lost his touch with the rest of the women in Gotham. The stared at him expectantly, and not without some adoration. However she only looked at him with barely obvious interest, obviously waiting for him to make the first move.  
  
"I'm Bruce Wayne," he said. The look in her eyes changed subtly, from interest to curiosity. He realised his self-introduction must have sounded fairly hollow, and struggled to regain his composure. However, her eyes were the most piercing blue, and he was having some difficulty concentrating.  
  
"I mean, I was watching you from across the room, that is I noticed you, and..." he struggled, trying to come up with a credible reason for crossing the room to speak to a stranger. Even the adoring women, looked slightly confused; they were not used to seeing Bruce Wayne, the Bruce Wayne, in a state of unease.  
  
Suddenly it hit him, he had come over because she was a stranger. "I didn't recognise you're face among all these familiar ones, and thought I should introduce myself," he finally managed to get out.   
  
She smiled then, or what he supposed was a smile for her. It was not the normal full toothed smile of a young society girl, but it was very beautiful. The lips curled up at the edges, and her eyes lit up and danced. He thought his heart might melt at the sight of it, and he returned a slightly embarrassed smile, glad that he had finally managed a complete sentence.   
  
"I'm Adria Notte. And very pleased to make you're acquaintance, Mr. Wayne," she returned, still smiling that sweet and mysterious smile.  
  
Seeing that things were well once again, the rest of the group smiled and chuckled, returning to their conversation. The two of them gradually drifted away, and Bruce invited her to have some champagne with him on the patio. She agreed readily enough, and they moved away together. 


End file.
